


monumental

by bene_elim



Series: you hold my touch in you [2]
Category: The Legend of Zelda: Breath of the Wild
Genre: But not exactly, Fluff without Plot, Flying, Gift Giving, Hebra, Love Confessions, M/M, Rito Village, Selectively Mute Link (Legend of Zelda), as everything I write is, basically nothing happens, but not in so many words, link's struggle with talking, this is all very subtle
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-04
Updated: 2021-01-04
Packaged: 2021-03-14 00:06:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,170
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28537092
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bene_elim/pseuds/bene_elim
Summary: Link pays Harth a visit. Harth takes him flying.-"It was profound, he thought, this feeling that coursed through him whenever he was in Harth’s presence – somewhat shy, tender, rare but so big and aching and true at the same time. It was hard to describe, he thought, but it was one of those things that putting words to might ruin, so he didn’t. But he equalled it with the first time he ever saw the aurora, or a shooting star: monumental."
Relationships: Harth/Link (Legend of Zelda)
Series: you hold my touch in you [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2090508
Comments: 1
Kudos: 21
Collections: LoZ: Botw/AoC Rareship Bingo





	monumental

**Author's Note:**

> i wrote more for them because......... i cant leave anything alone? this is now a series (series title from harold pinter's _poem_ 1964). im spectacularly unhappy with how this has gone, its not what i intended it to be at all, but i think the world needs more harth/link regardless of whether or not its perfect, so here i am. things were meant to happen that didnt because harth demanded they go flying instead!! i have more ideas for them but...,,, we'll see. hopefully this doesnt feel forced!!

The Sturnida Secret Hot Spring was one of Link’s favourite retreats. It was quiet, it was peaceful, it was beautiful. On a good, clear (rare), night, he might even see the aurora. It might be a bit of a schlep to reach, but at least it was near enough to Maka Rah shrine that he didn’t have to trek through the snow too far.

Today was one of those diamond days where the sky was clear and the snow had, briefly, stopped. He stripped down to his underwear and stood for a moment, shivering, on the pier, breathing deeply the cold, frozen air. Then he jumped into the water.

His aching muscles relaxed. He’d come straight from the North Lomei Labyrinth (on a research conduction mission for Zelda, taking pictures of the architecture with the Sheikah Slate) where, upon exiting its depths, he’d crossed into the immediate path of a lynel. Normally, he marked the areas that lynels inhabited on the Sheikah Slate map to make sure that this kind of thing didn’t happen, but this one… he’d somehow missed. Unprepared for battle, for he had snuck through the maze avoiding the monsters and Guardians in his best stealth armour, he had fumbled his way through the fight and come out victorious with more than one deep scrapes. He knew that Goflam’s Secret Hot Spring was the closest spring to the Labyrinth, but Sturnida was his favourite.

Sparkling, sparkling, the sun danced off the turquoise waters. Link sighed, splashed the water half-heartedly, dunked his whole head under. Submerged, the howling winds of Hebra were nothing but a whisper, a mere thought. He released his caught breath and listened to it bubble to the surface before he, too, re-emerged. He was loath to admit it, for he’d never felt this way before in all of his travels, but he was lonely. He had got used to being at someone’s side, or someone being at his side (for, he had discovered, the two could be quite separate) and now, alone again, he found himself longing for another voice to fill the air.

If Zelda were there, she could tell him about the phenomena that makes the springs hot even in such unforgiving climate as Hebra’s.

(If Harth were there, they could sit in companionable silence, but at least he wouldn’t be alone.)

Maybe, before going back to Castletown to present Zelda with the fruits of his mission, he could stop by Rito Village.

-

The village was quiet. While he had been at the springs, night had fallen, so most of the rito had retreated back to their huts. But Link knew that Harth would be up – he didn’t think that in all the time he had known him, he had ever seen Harth sleep.

He climbed the stairs to Harth’s hut, glad for the quiet. When he reached it, he stood on the threshold, recalling the last time he had been there. The warmth of Harth’s arms around him. The feeling of Harth’s chest at his back. It was almost more healing than any time spent in a hot spring.

“Link,” Harth said, noticing his hovering. This time, there was no attempt to hide the fond smile that graced his face, and he faced Link head on with softness in his eyes.

_Harth_ , Link signed. The sign for his name was the sign for the letter _H_ and the sign for _rito._ They had decided on it the first time they had ever met, which Link thought fondly on now, despite the fact that Harth had been more than a little prickly back then.

“I missed you.” It was said extraordinarily quiet, as though Harth was afraid of the admission. In her hammock, Molli turned over. Harth cleared his throat. “Come. Let’s sleep. In the morning, I can show you the design for a new bow that I drafted up yesterday, and you can tell me if there’s anything you’d like changed.”  
Too tired to argue with that, for Link was still exhausted despite the healing, soothing, peaceful dip in the hot spring, he moved forwards and into Harth’s waiting, open arms. Wrapped safely in them, warm and snug in a way reminiscent of the last time he was in a similar position, Link drifted off, his last waking thought that of Harth’s green gemstone eyes.

-

Morning came far too soon. Link woke, groggy, but at peace: comfortable. Barely opening his eyes, he snuggled deeper into the softness he was lying on, until he heard a chuckle and realised that that softness was Harth. Groaning in embarrassment, Link buried deeper into the feathers, turning his head so that his cheek rubbed tenderly against Harth’s chest. He felt Harth laugh again and he whined in protest.

“Let’s get up, Link,”

“…No,” Link managed. He felt so well rested, more than he was used to, even after sleeping in his own bed. Perhaps it was his time in the hot springs, but he was sure it had more to do with the fact that he had used Harth as a pillow during the night. He felt Harth laugh once more.

“Alright, then, I suppose I won’t show you that design for a new bow, then…”

Again, Link whined in protest, but he did so as he pushed himself upright. He looked down at Harth with a sleepy, disgruntled expression which only made Harth laugh more.

“I have more apples for you,” Harth bribed, and at that Link perked up a bit, finally standing up. Harth stood too, though as soon as he was upright, he grabbed hold of Link’s hand. Link was the one to duck his head to hide his smile this time, choosing instead to look at their joined hands. It was profound, he thought, this feeling that coursed through him whenever he was in Harth’s presence – somewhat shy, tender, rare but so big and aching and true at the same time. It was hard to describe, he thought, but it was one of those things that putting words to might ruin, so he didn’t. But he equalled it with the first time he ever saw the aurora, or a shooting star: monumental.

Harth retrieved the apples for Link, one handed for he refused to let go of Link’s hand, and watched fondly as link ate them. When Molli awoke, she tittered happily to see Link.

“Link’s here!” She exclaimed, moving to hug his leg. He reached his free hand down to stroke her head, smiling fondly at her. Not wanting to extract his hand from Harth’s, he swallowed his anxiety and opened his mouth to speak. When Harth realised, he squeezed his hand and made to let go, but Link just squeezed harder and held on tighter.

“Good morning, Molli,” He said, scratchily, but this time he didn’t mind his voice sounding rough, not when he had Harth beside him, not when he had Harth holding his hand, not when Harth looked at him like that (like he had been the one to paint the blues and greens and pinks in the Hebra skies).

Excited by the fact that Link had spoken, Molli jumped up and down. “Link! I’m going to sing with Notts today!” He smiled down at her, unsure whether his voice would work again. “Then, then, Uncle Teba is going to teach me and Tulin archery! He said I can spend the night with them at the Flight Range and Dad _finally_ agreed!” At this, Link’s smile grew, and he looked up at Harth. Bashfully, Harth shrugged.

“Teba promised to start her on the smallest bow. She’s already the smallest of all the children, I was worried about having her handle a bow, but she kept asking and Teba kept offering, so… I couldn’t say no, in the end.”

Molli had already bolted from the hut. They could just hear her calling out a greeting to Notts.

“So, I suppose that I have a free evening. Will you stay, Link?” Harth asked. Link found himself nodding, despite the fact that his trip to Rito Village was supposed to be short, despite the fact the princess was waiting for him.

Harth nuzzled the top of Link’s head with his beak, fluffing up his hair, then leaned down to whisper in Link’s ear,

“Want to go for a flight?”

Link nodded enthusiastically.

-

On Revali’s Landing, Link climbed upon Harth’s back. Bedoli watched them, slightly shocked, and Link couldn’t blame her: how often did Harth leave his hut?

And then, Harth took flight. Link gasped at the sensation of weightlessness that overcame him for a brief moment and smiled at Harth when looked back over his shoulder at him. They rode the wind around the village and Link couldn’t help but laugh freely. The last time he was on the back of a rito, it had been Teba under him and Vah Medoh in the air, firing at them. He had had a mission, one of life and death, and he couldn’t have focused back then on the feelings of liberation and elation that he felt in the air. And the feeling was somewhat different to the feeling of using his paraglider – possibly because it was Harth focusing on where they were going, changing direction, making sure they stayed afloat on the air currents. His hands found the feathers at Harth’s upper back and he buried his fingers in, sliding his palms up to his shoulders, holding on. His knees hugged Harth’s waist, holding on. They sailed around the village, soaring higher and higher until Link’s hands tightened their hold on Harth’s shoulders in cold. Harth sunk lower.

Eventually, when they landed, it was at Cuho Mountain, on one of its two peaks. They settled down together, Harth immediately wrapping his arms around Link once again. It was strange, this behaviour in Harth: he kept his distance so long, and now, it was like an overflowing river whose banks couldn’t contain the excess waters – Harth’s adoration seemed to pour out of him in ever caress and every word, and Link didn’t know what to do but accept it as graciously as he could.

He thought, maybe, a gift. People give gifts to show their appreciation, don’t they? He was still relearning much of subtle behaviour, things he lost upon waking up in the Shrine of Resurrection. He remembered gifts, though. And Harth had given _him_ lots of gifts: health, apples, patience, gentle touches, and now this flight. What would Harth like in return? Zelda told him that the best gifts are surprises, so perhaps asking should be a last resort…

“What are you thinking about?” Harth asked. Link startled, and then relaxed, and then ran his hands through the feathers on Harth’s arms, trying to give back those gentle touches.

“You,” Link answered honestly, voice hoarse but steady. He felt Harth’s arms tighten around him – surprise, perhaps? – and a beak settle atop his head. He sighed in contentment.

With what sounded like hesitance, Harth eventually replied, “I think about you too.” It was a quiet admission, in Harth’s quiet voice, in the quiet of the air around them. And, as though he didn’t want to say it, but the words were being pulled out of him, an extraction of deep secrets, Harth continued,

“I think about how I thought you were a weak little Hylian who didn’t know what he was doing when he came claiming that he could tame Vah Medoh, and how you continually proved every one of my assessments of you wrong. I think about how Molli likes you, and how you take such good care of the Great Eagle Bow, and of every bow, and of how Teba speaks so fondly of you, like you were his own son. I think… I think about how you slowly crept into my heart, and about how much I hate that, because you weren’t supposed to happen. But you did. And I think about that constantly.”  


Link blinked back tears.

_“I think you were always supposed to happen to me,”_ He wanted to say, but anxiety clawed at his throat and stopped the words like a cork. Instead, he held on tighter and whined sadly at the back of his throat. Harth misunderstood his sadness to be for his words, not for his lack of ability to speak, and continued,

“But I’m glad you did happen. I’m glad to have you,” He said.  
Unable to stand his own silence any longer, Link turned in Harth’s arms and signed,

_And I’m glad to have you_.

-

They returned to Rito Village later that evening. They fell asleep curled around each other in Harth’s hammock. But in the morning, Link woke with the dawn and crept out from under Harth’s arms. Unsure as to why he was sneaking away but feeling like he had to, he left a star fragment on one of the shelves as a gift and took off back towards Castletown, and Zelda. He had a lot to think about.

**Author's Note:**

> thanks for reading! <3


End file.
